Promising Evening Of Friends In Their 40's

It was a promising evening, we were getting together, four fun (used to be) intelligent (I think), cultured (self proclaimed) people with their good food and good wine and good chats (normally good) and great weather. The promise of a good evening was not fulfilled, so what went wrong. What went wrong was our stories, what I call mid forties stories of people in this part of the world, maybe so in other parts of the world too, but then again I would not know, I have not experienced my mid forties anywhere else.

After saying our hellos and how are you's and checking on each others medical conditions, since one was worried she has high blood pressure and someone was asking about the level of my triglycerides, the discussions were hilariously interesting, spanning the ultra intriguing world of maids, or lack of, that are absolutely necessary for our livelihood, not to mention the livelihood of ailing mothers with bad hips. We passed through the wondrous world of Parkinson's and I discovered that it is not always all about tremors. We discussed the joys of a daughter playing the maid to a mother that tends to forget that the maid/daughter is only playing that role and not actually being paid for it. I tried being witty and mentioned that she, in fact, (the daughter) has been paid in advance (school tuition, clothing, housing etc...), it was not very funny. I also got a very colorful picture of life with a little purse that collects your urine when you no longer know that it is time to pee pee. We peppered the conversation with small talk about back pains, lingering migraines of a friend and a few minor aches here and there. 

At one point I wanted to stand up and scream, SHUUUUUUUTTTTT UUUUUUUPPPPP, but it was too late since it was time to leave. I left with an after taste that no wine can remove, an after taste that remained and lingered long after the dinner, an after taste that battled with and won over the heavy cilantro and garlic that garnished the chicken. An after taste that kept me up all night and riddled my heart the following day.

I do not want to know what happens to us when we age, i do not want a glimpse of illnesses awaiting in the darkness of later years. I do not want to live 25 years ahead of my time, especially that those coming 25 years will not be my 30's or 40's, they will be my sixties. I really really want to be surprised with them. I really really do not want to know what is coming in this instance, a rare case where my curiosity will not get the best of me. A rare case where I am not, absolutely not, inquisitive.

I guess I should start befriending Teenagers !

5 Year Old Terrorist

This is not a political blog, the intention was never to discuss politics and this is not what I am about to do now. This blog was intended to write about human feelings, emotions and the absurd things we do along with the good things we do, it is about musings that need to be verbalized and this is why I am writing today.

I watched with disgust the video of Israeli soldiers terrorizing a 5-year-old boy. I could never ever watch a child crying without having the urge to cry with them. They could cry for a piece of candy or because they want a toy but that is fine it comes with the territory of being a child, but crying out of fear, regardless of the reason always breaks my heart to a degree that I cannot understand how anyone can endure seeing a child crying not to mention being the reason for it. The Israeli army spokesperson said that the human activist that filmed the whole incident should have discussed it with them first, I assumed that they thought it was taken out of context, as is always the case, but I would like to ask what COULD be the context of terrorizing a 5 year old. He threw a stone? So? Doesn’t that happen in hundreds of cities around the world? Is it grounds to terrorize the boy, take him into custody, blindfold his father in front of him and take him into custody along with his son?

I will make it a bit simple without asking too many questions, I really truly believe in the depth of my heart that what goes around comes around, one day these soldiers’ children will be terrorized like this by someone stronger without having the ability to defend themselves, nor have any rights, just like the little boy, but perhaps then, because of the way things are in this world, it will become a very sad story, perhaps turn into a book and an Oscar winning movie that the whole world sees and sympathizes with. We might follow their lives into adulthood and get to know how this incident affected their whole lives, their relationships with their families and children, how phobic they became and how it has traumatized them and affected every facet of their lives, every decision they made and every relationship they had, we might even see a psychiatrist analyze in depth how it affected their sexual behavior, some grew to have fantasies about soldiers and others have turned to abuse to satisfy their continuous hunger to dominate. We will later, of course, see them go on talk shows (too bad Oprah is off the air) and cry their eyes out along with the rest of the world and maybe they will start an organization and support groups that help prevent such an atrocity from ever happening again to other children. Shall I go on?

But this boy will go on with his life, perhaps even be the neighborhood hero, the one that was arrested at only 5 years of age, versus the other “adults” that started their patriotic prison terms at the much older age of maybe 7 or 8, he will perhaps not forget the incident, but it will not traumatize him, because he is resilient like all the boys and girls his age who grew up to see this event as a badge of honor and in case of males, a badge of initiation into manhood and becoming what they should become, men without fear.

If the soldiers thought this would break him at an early age so that he grows up a broken docile soul they were mistaken. I believe they made the mistake of making him exactly what they don’t want, more defiant, more confrontational and more hateful.

Next time he will throw a bigger stone so he knows that he will be jailed for something worthwhile not a mere pebble.